A Snowy Night
by iyada
Summary: life is not always easy for Lukas bondevick. the Kalmar union is taking its toll on all of those involved. but the night that Sweden and finland decide to leave, will this prove to be to much for the Norwegian to handle? this is a dark!hetalia fanfic. warning for implied rape and depressing themes. written along with the lovely strawberrysweetyume. go give her some love. dennor


Lukas stood out in the snow wrapped up in Denmark's coat, he was watching two very familiar figures walk out of his life. The castle would be a lot different without Sweden and Finland there making noise. After all, Sweden and Denmark fought a lot and Norway had been known to have his fights with Finland before. But now they were leaving, he had begged them to stay... and they had begged him to leave. He knows Denmark is a little bit out of control but he is sure he can calm the other down. But upon his refusal, Sweden had accused him of just being a Danish whore, he wasn't! That wasn't all Denmark used him for! He loved him! But the more he stands there the more he doubts this. The further those retreating backs get the harder Lukas wants to run to catch up. He shakes his head, he can't leave Emil. And he loved Denmark, even if the other is just using him. He sighs wrapping the Danes coat tighter around himself and turns to head up into the castle.

A strong fist was brought down on the hardwood desk, almost splitting it in half, the piece of furniture barely able to stand anymore. Narrowed eyes looked outside at the snow covered land, glaring hatefully at the two figures leaving, slowly but surely making their way out of the castle, onto the hills, out of the snow, out of the land, out of the union, out of his life. How dare they leave him? He may have not been the first to have formed this union but sure as hell he had been the one to complete it and to make it better. Yes, it was better, it was stronger...so why did they think so badly of him!? Especially that damn Sweden, who did he even think he was? Always standing up to him, always trying to make things harder, Goodness knows he even tried taking Norway from him once! That for one was something Denmark wasn't willing to let happen again though it almost had...Sweden and Finland had wanted the small Nordic to go with them too, but for some reason the other stayed and despite the sour situation it brought a smile to the Danish's lips. Currently the other was outside, easily recognizable by the big coat he was wearing, much too big for his figure but surely keeping him warm. Snow started covering the footsteps of the ones who had left him, just as they covered up Norway's footsteps as he came back to him...after a few moments, Denmark turned and went downstairs in the heated castle, waiting in the hall for Norway to get inside. The storm was getting heavier after all.

Norway paused outside the door once again considering running after the Swede and Finnish man and begging to be taken along. But that would be foolish. After all he is the only one who could bring calm to Denmark. Talk some sense into the other. He rubs agitated at the bruises on his arm from the last time he had tried to talk the other out of a rage. But he hadn't hurt anyone but him so that was progress. And very good. He glances up to the sky at the worsening snow and he can feel the cold starting to seep into his bones. It was chilling him to his core and if he stood out here for much longer he would get ill. But falling ill sounded good right now. Maybe the idiot Dane would realize he wasn't invincible. He sighs pulling open the door. After all if he is sick no one will take care of Emil. He steps in shaking off the snow that had started to cover him while he had stood there. He meets the Danes eyes in the hall in shock. "So you know..." he says took too long. Norway's walk to the door shouldn't have taken so long. Did the blizzard get him? Did he collapse? Worse: did he leave? A cold swept through his whole body and he knew it wasn't from the weather. However, he didn't want to believe Norway would leave. Heavily, he made a few steps from where he was perched on the last few stairs of the grand staircase and then another heavy step towards the entrance just as a creak could be heard.

Denmark's heart became light and a sigh of relief threatened to leave...at least until Norway's soft melodious voice reached his ears with words that once again put him on edge. He scrutinized the other with a gaze that clearly said he would have known one way or another and how dare he even think he wouldn't know. The other wouldn't be pleased by this. His coat around the other's soft figure looked lovely, protecting, loving and caring, but at the same time too heavy and constricting...Denmark wondered if the last were true or if that was his own presence sweeping through the coat around the Norwegian...This wasn't supposed to turn out this way. He was supposed to take the coat away, tease the other for taking it, maybe annoy him until one of those jinxes threatened to hit him and then snuggle together by the fire until Emil came back and he'd be pushed away for Norway to go make dinner in case he considered the chef's talent not enough. He wasn't supposed to feel himself slipping and want to break something in the other's body for a subtle feeling of 'disobedience'...or for the horrified fear he felt inside...maybe if he broke his legs he'd stay, but then again he wouldn't let him near him again if he did that. He'd think that having left would've been better. It made Denmark sick. This aura made him sick. The castle was warm but a disgusting cold came inside him not similar at all to the cold snow fights they'd sometimes have where they'd all laugh and have fun..."I knew for a while." He answered simply and a heavy silence fell, his hand grabbing the handle of the stairs to calm his nerves. Once his breath was under control and his eyes softened at the unusual color of his friend's on him, he gestured towards the fireplace. "C'mon, we can't let you get sick, y'know?" he said, trying to dismiss the earlier tense atmosphere though it seemed forced.

Lukas had sensed the moment and fear had laced through him, what was the other considering? He should have known better than to even consider leaving. After all the Dane may not have been magical but he seemed like he was a freaking mind reader sometimes. He stood still as he saw the contemplation cross the others face. He looked down obediently hoping to ease the others fear. After all, if he was afraid people would get hurt. But if Lukas could assure the other that he wasn't going to leave and he would be right here forever it would be okay. He listens to the other speak and nods his head silently in agreement. He can already feel the sickness starting to settle into his bloodstream making him feel less steady on his feet as he took careful steps towards the other not sure which fireplace the Dane wanted to use. It's these actions are what make Lukas realize Sweden had been right, he wasn't anything but a Danish whore was he? When Denmark called he came. He did whatever the other wanted. Without challenging him. It was to keep himself and the others safe! But that didn't make him any less of a whore. He took a deep breath and continued to walk towards the other making sure not to show any of his feelings on his face, "I am sorry for taking your coat, I was trying to stop them." and he had been. He had wanted them to stay. But if Denmark knew that he had tried to preserve their family he wouldn't be so angry with him for failing.

Denmark didn't want to head back upstairs. He didn't mind if the other saw the almost wrecked desk in his study or the leftovers of his last fury but he did mind the pure white landscape that lied to him about the other's departure, having hidden their footsteps and even if it hadn't, he wouldn't want to be reminded of it. Turning around, he headed for the fireplace in the small library he kept there. It was a nice, small, cozy library. It had been for Norway who loved books, especially spell books, somewhere to relax and read in peace, where he could cuddle the other close...too bad in the last time it had turned cold due to the conflicts he and Sweden had gotten into while Norway was inside, due to the shouts that'd be heard there from outside when the two bigger countries got into fights, from the books that concerned war now stacked inside along with maps. The other's obedient expression…Denmark wasn't sure how much he enjoyed it. He liked it, it meant Norway was his and only his, that he'd listen, that he wouldn't leave…it also meant the other was afraid of him which he didn't mind.

However, even though he liked it, it didn't suit the other's soft features. There were times where he'd try making him smile but now, even though he still couldn't put a smile on Lukas's face, his whole body seemed slumped, ready to give up but still keeping strong, his features stoned and his eyes guarded. It pained his heart and he couldn't figure out which was worse: Norway having lost his emotions or Norway keeping all of his emotions securely, surely hidden from him. Leading the other inside, he left the door for him to close, entering the warm room and plopping down on the comfortable couch in front of the fluffy rug that stood before the fireplace. He wanted to break it, but let his feeling sweep away. Norway was worrying him more than his own problems. "It's fine. They had their minds made…" Denmark said simply, watching as the other walked in, closing the door behind him. It was getting late. "Are you hungry?" he asked, his eyes trained on the pale boy as he hoped the tense atmosphere would soon perish like the snow on the boy's pale skin.

Lukas follows him to the library silently. This had been his. The first time that Denmark had showed him this room he had loved it and adored it. It was a place for him to sit and enjoy the quiet. Get away from the noise and busyness of the castle which he had always hated. And Denmark knew that. So he had made sure the other had a safe haven to just sit and read. Ever since he could remember he had loved books, and been fascinated by magic. And he had been one of the rare children born with the ability. When he had seen that it had been stocked with his favorite books including spell books, and a small area to practice. He was sure that he had never loved Denmark more. But now it was no longer his. Nothing was his. He looked sadly at the war books and maps that now cluttered the room. His beautiful little haven. Destroyed. He moved forward carefully sure not to knock anything over and waited permission to sit beside the other. He wouldn't assume that he had the permission. "No, I am not hungry." He says softly to him. He would not be hungry unless the other was hungry. They would eat together or not at all. The others called this abuse. But as long as it was himself he didn't mind.

Careful steps entered the room and Denmark's eyes watched curiously from the corner how the other jumped over a few small war maps, almost knocking a few over. Safely, gingerly, carefully. Norway shouldn't have to be put through this when this was his room, his territory, a place that had been filled with magic and the other's warmth that contrasted drastically with his pale skin. His eyes trailed to the battle plans and maps. They had lead him to victory, to lands, to money, to power...they should all be burnt for the sake of Norway having his space. Thrown in the fireplace and left to burn in one of the cursed war rooms. The other's figure once again blocked his view and Denmark didn't bother telling him to move. He liked the other's figure, small, petite, almost feminine and wonderfully colored like the pure snow. He didn't move, nor sit down. He didn't want to eat either. Giving a small nod, the blond looked at the clock that was lazily hung on the wall. "Emil will be here soon. We'll eat then." He said simply and a heavy silence fell once again but was sweetened by the cracking of the fire. Denmark could feel his muscles ease up a bit and he turned his eyes once again to Norway, a small smile, hiding bitterness but expressing benevolence and care, crossed his face. He leaned down, resting his hands on his knees.

"Why don't you sit down? You'll grow tired if you stand up." Matthias said, almost gently in his slightly tired tone, watching for the other sit beside him. He chuckled when he noticed the state of the jacket. "Look at this, you'll catch a cold this way, Nor." he scolded gently, his arms reaching to touch the other's shoulders and then moving to gently unbutton it. "I'll help you get it off." And with that simple phrase he quickly unbuttoned the piece of clothing before gently sliding it down the blonde's arms, revealing his blouse, his neck, his arms...he really was too petite for his heavy jacket.

Lukas watched the other watching him. He had become used to being watched like this many years ago. It seemed Matthias was always watching. Constantly observing and devouring him with his eyes. It was so common now that it didn't surprise him nor scare him when it happened. He was accustomed to it. He sighs in relief body relaxing when he is given permission to sit. And the good fortune that they would wait for Emil. He didn't get to eat with his precious little brother very often anymore. Hopefully Emil would be on his best behavior so that he and Denmark wouldn't fight. Emil was roughly ten. And a very rough and tug violent child, as far as children go. A normal rambunctious ten years old. It was just a phase Lukas was sure. After all not even a year before he had been perfectly calm. And in a year or so Emil would be calm again. But for now they had to be careful otherwise he would challenge Matthias and things never were pretty when that happened. He stiffens a little when the other starts to disrobe him but he relaxes, surely the other doesn't want to have sex right now? He doesn't think so, he thinks this is a simple disrobing. He allows it, not fighting back. After all, it is innocent. He meets his eyes watching him as the other examines his body. Lukas knows he is smaller than other men, petite, almost feminine he has been told. And he knows that Matthias likes this a lot. He used to love that Matthias liked it. Now he was slightly indifferent. "Tak." he says careful to use the Danish form of the words 'thank you' instead of the Norwegian, Matthias sometimes took speaking his native language as a bid for independence. He shrugs his shoulders a little to help the coat fall off eager for it to be off so he could sit. He was weary.

The soft rush of air coming from the boy's mouth made a pang of sour, but numb guilt rise in his chest. Of course, Norway must be extremely tired...exhausted...maybe the problem wasn't even physical but mental. The boy's white skin and his perfect complexion showed he was fairly healthy, paler than normal people but that was something Denmark liked, just as he liked the boy's perfect hair and that one strand that would always be in the same place, just as he liked his cold hands, his perfect nails, his long eyelashes, his elegant nose, his lips in the form of cupid's arch, just as he liked everything he possessed about the boy, everything he was and still managed to hate almost everything he represented because if there was a key to his destruction it was this one country right in front of him, the one that could leave him dying on the floor whether he knew it or not. One step outside into the snow that so fervently covered his footsteps as he went away and Denmark would crumble with everything that would leave at the same time, the lust he felt for him, the care he held for him, the plans he had made for them, the memories he treasured for them and the ones he had so tightly locked up to satisfy his currently sick conscience. He knew he wanted the other...he just didn't manage to bring himself to recognize how much he actually needed him.

The news that his little brother was coming, seemed to make Norway happy and for that Matthias was also happy. Emil and he weren't on the best of terms right now after their last outburst but for Norway they'd both try to behave. However, the other was having a phase and something within Denmark made him consider it for the worse and if it was that Iceland would always stay so bold and go against him, he didn't know how he'd deal. His patience was degrading, his nerves were high strung, someone had left him, Norway could leave him, and he had everything and couldn't deal with it. How was he supposed to deal with this? Lukas seemed to stiffen and out of instinct, as if his mind needed time to analyze the small movement of the other's muscles, Matthias paused before continuing to disrobe the other gently, in a slower manner, tenderly as if the other had suffered deadly wounds and for now even the smallest of movements would disrupt his tired body. And honestly, the other had. God knew, Matthias had hurt him so much in the last time he didn't even know why half of the time anymore. Norway didn't deserve it but the sick part of his mind did it anyway and even when he realized it he could only feel a numb sort of guilt...Why couldn't he feel anything anymore? A part of him was horrified, screaming, afraid, outraged, flaring and yet he couldn't bring himself to show any of those emotions and he didn't know why anymore. Maybe being the perfect leader had worn out everything he had ever been? Could he even return to what he had been so long ago?

The coat slid off the smaller boy's shoulders and he was happy to see him relaxed finally as the warmth of the fire swept across his skin and into his bones. He'd be warm and safe now. Giving a simple nod in response to the words, he took the coat and discarded it on the nearby floor. The other still seemed weary as if afraid. Leaning over, the Dane wrapped his arms lazily around the other's thin waist, his head resting tiredly on the other's neck, feeling his scent with every small breath. "You should stay in for a while, it's going to be extremely cold outside this week." Matthias said, taking the other's hand in his own to feel the cold surface as if to make his point. In the end he settled for staying like that, making sure not much of his weight fell on the other as he rubbed small circles and patterns on the other's hand. A few minutes passed and then he moved to lean back, still holding the other, pulling him along and settling him against his side to comfortably lean in and enjoy the fire together. He wished they could just stay there and everything else would just disappear because the warm light of the fire against their skin and the other's cold skin warming up under his touch was more than what he'd ever needed or would ever need. Norway calmed him and he loved that. He just felt himself trapped under too much ice right now to be able to reciprocate it with everything Norway should have gotten in return.

Norway leaned into his lover, friend, but in actuality, king. He had pulled him there so it must be okay right? He wasn't sure. He just hoped the other stayed this calm through dinner. Because what they had right now, quite enjoyable, was peaceful and nice. Similar to what they had before everything had blown up in his face. Before the first bruises and the first pain and the first fear. And he couldn't stop dwelling on the Swede's words.

Danish whore.

Danish Whore.

DANISH WHORE.

It now felt like the words were being screamed at him accusing him of something he couldn't control. Even though Denmark's warmth and the fire were helping to warm his body, he still felt betrayed and as cold as the winter's snow outside. Norway frowned. Denmark didn't want him to go outside. Norway was sure it was more worry over him deciding to leave then actual fear of him falling ill. Lukas loved the snow. Every bit of it. Though too much could make him ill, he was careful. But he nods his head at Mathias. Perfect, porcelain, obedient. "Okay, I won't." Lukas says softly. A moment later there is a knock on the door and then it opens without permission and the ten year old that Lukas was so happy to see quickly entered the room stumbling wrapped in a jacket of his own covered in snow and cheeks flushed. Not only does he not ask permission to come in but he isn't careful coming in and knocks over a stack of books. He just glances at it and shrugs. He then moves towards to couch not caring that he was knocking things over. Lukas pales. This was not boding well for either of them. The child comes to a halt in front of the couch and smirks at Mathias, because everything Mathias had ever worked for was walking out the door. Just like he had told him the last time they had fought. Emil is sure it won't be long before him and Lukas leave as well. He leans over to hug Lukas who hugs back timidly.

Somewhat rough, strong hands, warm with the temperature inside but almost numb with the temperatures of his country continued to gently rub circles and gentle patterns along thin, elegant, perfectly defined hands smaller than his own. Norway had always been beautiful and his hands were one of the things that easily defined him. Lean and smooth, the attitude of a royal, pale but healthy, the love for snow but also for the solitude of the inside, carefully taken care of nails, tidy and clean, gentle but elegant movements...caring, loving, sensual, aristocratic. Norway was everything anyone could desire...A frown escaped those perfect lips and Denmark paid no attention to it. He knew the reasoning just as he knew the other was right. He didn't want the other leaving and while not getting sick might have played a part in all this, the first reason would seem more predominant to anyone who had known him in the last time. However, he almost wished it wasn't so because he didn't want the other to take it so despite that being the actual reason. He wanted the benefit of the doubt...he wanted to be considered innocent despite how much he had stained everything. "Thank you." he said softly, and somehow he didn't know what he was thanking the other for anymore.

For Staying?

For loving him?

For agreeing with him?

For not leaving?

He almost wished the other did something to bring him out of his stupor but knew that would just turn against the both of them. Maybe lying there in peace and quiet was the best for them. Maybe along with the ice that melted from the coat and the fire that warmed up their skin, the ice in his heart would also start to melt and break...A knock broke through their blessed silence and Denmark didn't even bother to open his eyes, having already decided on ignoring any kind of sign from outside in favor of keeping Norway close and drowning in the mixed scent of him and firewood. However, the annoying click of the door opening was heard and Matthias opened his eyes to see a certain disrespectful ten years old entering the room, or more so stumbling inside, effectively knocking over a stack of books. This made Matthias cringe ever so slightly as he grounded his teeth in pure annoyance. "Have ya not heard of a knock?" he said towards the other, disdainfully, as he reluctantly loosened his grip on the Norwegian so he could hug his little brother.

"Hei bror!" Emil says happily completely ignoring Mathias and using the Norwegian words purposely. Emil didn't like Danish. Or Denmark. He saw what the other did to his brother every day. Lukas glances at Mathias nervously giving Emil a small smile."Hej." Lukas says again careful to use the Danish word.

The other smirked and had Matthias had his axe, it would have taken flight right towards the other's neck. Once again a hateful aura invaded the room and the Dane looked the other smaller nation down through his every movement, through his every touch to his lover, through everything. Norway was his lover...yes, they were lovers but could they be considered that when they had declared no such thing as love towards each other? The thought was burnt out and through by that horrible all-knowing smirk on Iceland's lips. Had Norway wished to use his own language the Dane wouldn't have objected because it was his and he probably felt the need to use it. However, in high strung situations and when he was annoyed, he'd prefer the other kept to Danish or else he might accidentally take it the wrong way. However, when Iceland used it, it wasn't just an endearment but a full out disrespect towards him and he could see that. His eyes narrowed dangerously at the other. "Out." He said, not even bothering to make a full out sentence but all in all the other did not seem to understand. "I didn't tell you to enter. Get out. We'll be having dinner soon so go change." He ordered, not even bothering to look the other over for any signs of cough or of cold as he had Norway when he had first entered. Iceland wasn't worth it to him, despite Norway being his older brother. Iceland's attitude simply pissed him off because despite helping with raising him, the other seemed too completely despise him. He hated him for this, it brought him further from Norway and further into his madness and away from humanity.

Emil turned to the other defiantly, "No. I need to talk to my bror and I have every right to. You can't stop me." he says, still in Norwegian. If Emil thought he could get away with it he would have used Swedish. But he is sure that would get him killed violently and gleefully by the other. It was no secret that he and Denmark didn't get along. But Emil saw it. Saw every deranged horrible thing that Matthias did to Lukas. And he didn't like it. Norway was no longer himself, simply a doll that was used for the others enjoyment. At his age he doesn't know the word 'whore' but if he did he would apply it to him. But only in his head, never aloud. He had tried to beg his bror to leave before but he always shook his head. "And there is nothing wrong with what I am wearing for dinner. So why should I change?" he challenges.

Norway pales considerable almost to an ashen color that isn't so pretty in replacement of his snow white skin. Why couldn't Emil just stay quiet and respectful for once? He hand immediately squeezes Denmark's hand to try and keep the other calm so that nothing bad happens. He can only hope that Denmark will stay calm, but most likely not, not with Sweden and Finland leaving and his fear that Norway would as well. "Go change Emil." he says softly, if Denmark wanted the child to change the child would change.

This little...sometimes Matthias couldn't believe the other's attitude towards him. He cared, he really did. He had done everything for them, had prepared everything for them, had made a home for them, had taken care of them so they'd strive and this was what he got in return!? Why!? Where had he gone wrong? He hated this. To pick on his nerves even more, the other talked in Norwegian. Blasted Norwegian in his home. Norwegian that didn't come in a soft, almost cold tone said and articulated perfectly by soft lips but spoken defiantly and with a childish voice by a brat.

"Then you'll just have to wait till we eat. " the Dane all but growled, glaring at the other, a dark aura starting to already form in the room that had once before been a safe haven to relax in. That heaven from a few moments earlier had also shattered to pieces...Matthias was about to snap at the other, about to get up, about to take his hand away from the Norwegian's waist and grab something he could do damage with, whether an object or just swing a brutal punch at the boy when a grip tightened around his hand and his jaw tightened in response as Norway spoke. Deciding to wait and see if the other's order would have more effect and in fear of disrupting anymore from the room, Denmark kept himself back from getting up, his body all but shaking with anger at the other, eyes containing restrained wild anger. He told him to change because there was a storm outside, because he was known to play in the snow, because for all he fucking knew, he could've been wet to the bone and get sick and then Norway and him would be worried. He was looking out for him and he was defying him!

Emil just stares at Matthias looking as if he was ready to say no again and defy him more but he stops himself and turns away nodding briefly to Lukas. "Then I will see you at dinner. Not like what I have to say is important or anything. Not compared to you at least." he says to Matthias before retreating from the room quickly before the other beat him to a pulp or something. He exits door slamming behind him as he retreats.

Lukas looks down at the ground horrified. Why couldn't Emil behave just once? Just for a moment? One small moment of time so that things would be peaceful? Surely the child is aware of what has happened and should know better than to purposely agitate Denmark! But it's like he pushes him on purpose! He wishes this stage would just finish so everyone could be happy again. He continues to look down not wanting to see the anger that precedes pain in Matthias's eyes. He really doesn't know what he will do if Matthias hits him again. He couldn't cry, and he couldn't fight back, that would just make it worse, and everything just built up until he felt like he couldn't contain it anymore.

Despite the other's decision not to oppose him any longer, at least for the moment, Matthias couldn't bring his muscles to relax even under the soft touch of the lovely Norwegian sitting next to him, though no longer leaning on him. He couldn't blame him. He was about to blow up from his brother's impertinence after all. Emil opened his mouth again and from those childish lips that were supposed to bring cute 'I love you' and endearments towards them came more defiance. This time Denmark couldn't keep his composure and pulled his hand away suddenly, roughly, with too much force, from Norway in exchange for grabbing a nearby crystal globe and throwing it at the wall where Iceland managed to disappear with the slamming of the door before it could hit him. The crystal globe cracked and glass decorated the floor and the nearby manuscripts, a few scratches on the hard wood door from the force it had been hit with...The room was once again left in silence...heavy, only interrupted by hard breathing, as if the owner had had a rush of adrenaline that was too much for his body, and the cracking of the fire...Denmark turned and the next victim was a chair that was kicked into the nearest wall, almost breaking upon impact and bringing down some of the books and military maps. He had to calm down...

When the hand was pulled roughly away from his Norway did his best to pull away without seeming to. The force had hurt a little but not like a real blow. But he knew that if he wasn't careful he would be a victim of the Danish man's wrath. He watched the crystal globe go flying with a flinch. That was a priceless magical artifact. He hoped he would be able to fix it later. He carefully and slowly pulled his knees to his chest and tried to make himself as small as possible. The smaller he appeared, the less dangerous he would seem. The less dangerous he seemed the less likely Matthias was to attack him next. So he made himself as small and harmless as possible making no sudden movements. He knows it won't take much to turn the others anger onto him. He frowns deeper as the chair knocks books to the ground. He wants to try and calm the other but the energy seems to have fled from his body leaving him with nothing left. So he sat and watched, and hoped.

The silence was still there and it was racking on Denmark's nerves even more. A loud Danish curse could be heard from the blond male as a hand grasped onto the couch and after a few minutes he collapsed into it, in the spot he had previously did he suddenly feel so drained? It hurt and yet it wasn't enough, he felt as if he should cause physical pain to be able to release his own interior turmoil...and yet something from the corner of his vision stopped him. Light blue, light blonde, pale ashen skin and a certain aura of not wanting to be there. Did Norway hate him too? Would he leave him too? Would he abandon him?

He felt sick to his stomach.

"I'm not eating anymore." The Dane said swiftly, getting up from his spot and stalking up to the door of the room, exiting and slamming it behind him. If he stayed anymore he'd hit Norway again. God knew the boy had more than enough wounds from the last time he had hurt him...and while this may have been true, cracks and things breaking could be heard very clearly from upstairs for a few hours more afterwards...he'd need a new desk.

Lukas watches the other leave not sure if he was glad he was leaving or sad. Almost half and half. Since the other wasn't there he couldn't hurt him. And that was a good thing. But he also couldn't calm him down. And that was bad. He sighed and stood the chill still in his bones. But he had to make sure things were running smoothly. He went out to dinner and acted like everything was still normal. He made sure the political aspects were running smoothly despite the recent break away from their friends. And of course the moment he thinks about Sweden, his words come crashing back on his head. He tries to push them aside as he goes through the evening but it was hard. He has to punish Emil for being an idiot earlier and that just upsets both of them. And Emil cries and accuses him of not loving him and all the things ten years olds do when they are upset. And Lukas is too weary to say anything besides, "You know I do love you Emil." he hears the sounds of crashing from upstairs late into the night. He wanders around till it stops, he isn't willing to go up there while the other is angry, but he knows better than to sleep elsewhere. Ever since the Kalmar union started his bed has been Matthias's bed. And if he slept anywhere else he was in big trouble. When the crashes stop for about an hour Lukas gets the plate of food he had saved for the other, hoping he would eat later, and heads up the stairs, timidly knocking on the door. He hadn't been brave enough to go get the jacket from the library so he was freezing again as it was now almost one in the morning. He held a small candle in his hand for light and prayed that the small flame won't be put to his skin like the last time he had interrupted the Dane during, 'important' work. He waits for permission to enter.

By the time 12 am came around Denmark had crashed his study and no doubt he'd have to put everything back and get new furniture tomorrow...he felt tired by all this. His room was connected with the antechamber and his study and wardrobe. He knew the doors were thick, made of sturdy wood and built to last...but even so he hadn't heard a click. A door. The bed. Norway wasn't there yet and this brought a whole new wave of fury over the Dane as he continued to crash and trash around furiously for half an hour more, finding himself exhausted...finally he retreated to the showers and then to his room, falling on the cold bed...Norway still wasn't there and while his nerves may have relaxed, he still felt extremely high strung. Where was he!? A fear crawled inside his body but then he remembered the storm outside. No one would go out in this storm. Surely Emil and Lukas wouldn't be crazy enough to leave, at least not in this weather...right? A soft knock was heard and the Dane found himself jumping slightly from his position, his eyes turning towards the door...for a few moments there was silence as he assessed the situation before he was able to finally find his voice. "Come in." Norway...Thank God. Norway was here, thank goodness. He hadn't left, he was here. "You're freezing." were the first words to come out of the blonde's mouth as he looked over the smaller figure at the door. Only some rooms in the castle were kept warm at night so it was to be expected. His for one was extremely warm to keep him and Norway comfortable, but the other seemed freezing and the jacket he had earlier worn, too big for him but warm, wasn't anywhere in sight, instead there was a plate of food.

Lukas opens the door slowly when he is allowed in. He isn't sure what he will see when he steps in so he prepares himself for the worst. But Mathias also sounds calm so that was a good thing. When he looks in he is pleased to discover that the bedchamber has not been torn to shreds. Lukas knows this means that Mathias most likely destroyed the study. He will clean that up before Mathias awakes. And have new furniture brought up in the morning. He smiles a little at the others obvious worry over him. Even if the worry is childish like a child's worry over a toy he doesn't want others to borrow because it might break. Lukas often feels this way. Like a small porcelain doll that Mathias clutches onto like his favorite toy. He nods a little at the statement, "I am." There is no reason to deny it. The other can obviously see his shaking hands and his trembling body from the cold.

He steps in fully and closes the door behind him softly before walking over to the bed. "I brought you dinner. It's cold now but I thought you might want it anyway." After all Mathias was always hungry after a rage. "Is it alright if I change for bed?" He asks setting the plate down besides Mathias and slipping his shoes off to pad over to the dresser barefooted to dig out a nightgown. He is sure the other won't object to it. After all, it means Lukas will be changing in front of him in the candlelight. He sets the candle on the top if the dresser and pulls out the nightgown. More of a nightdress. It was long sleeved with puffs at the wrist and frills around his neck. It went all the way to the floor and spread out so if he spun it fluffed out. All of his nightgowns were like this. Even before the union he wore night clothes similar to this. Though when asked Lukas would call them tunics, and no. They were not girly at all. But under Matthias's gaze they were. And he always felt strange wearing them for the other. But they kept him happy. And that meant that Lukas got to sleep in the bed and stay warm. There had been times Mathias made him sleep on the floor in anger. So Lukas was careful not to anger him at bedtime. Just in case he again waited for permission before changing into the gown that laid in his hands limply.

A cautious, almost confused but pleased look from the Norwegian on the bedchamber was overlooked by the Dane as the blond male took in the other's form. Petite, dressed too thinly for the weather outside his dorm, pale skin looking even whiter from the cold but warmed up by the light of the fire, despite the warmth yet to reach it, and neat blond hair. Lightly shaking hands were carrying a tray with something the Dane couldn't be bothered to decipher as his attention was taken by the worry the other infused in him. He always did this. It was strange. Every little emotion that sparked in him had been numbed down or overtaken by his rage fits, by his calculating expression and attitude at work, by his overwhelming worry of being abandoned and his horrible anger at being left, but even so whenever the other was in danger or worried him even in the slightest, he'd react. He'd admit sometimes he wouldn't react quickly enough, wouldn't react as much as he should, but it did cause a reaction. It worried him right to the depths of his heart and he wanted the other's suffering to end, to make everything better, to make sure he was alright and would soon come to see him, hug him, speak to him in that lovely voice. He had given up on reassuring the other of everything though...He tried but he knew that while he promised himself to keep the other safe physically he never managed and the one hurting him weren't others, it wasn't the cold, nor his people, it was him when he grasped him too roughly and bruised his skin, when he threw him aside in a rage fit to protect him from a harder blow meant for someone else, when he threw something and in an attempt to calm him, the Norwegian got hit.

And emotionally?

Yes, Mathias protected him emotionally, didn't he!? He tried to keep him safe, tried to give him everything, tried to keep his anger under control though sometimes he felt guilty with how easily he felt he had let himself slip in that frenzy...though that was wishful thinking. He knew he was hurting him more than anything by all this but regardless refused to acknowledge it. His pride refused to acknowledge it. He refused to acknowledge it. His whole being was against acknowledging that he hurt his love and would continue to degrade it further and further, that his beloved Norway would have been better off with Sweden and Finland who would have taken care of him, caressed him and given him all the love and attention he required as well as the physical means to be happy without the brash actions, the romantic assaults, the fighting, the shouting, the bruising...An almost amused, though worried smile pulls on the Dane's lips though truthfully, it was more due to Norway being here, to not abandoning him. What a foolish and wonderful person to stay by his side...He felt so blessed just to have him there so then why couldn't he treasure him the way he deserved? "You should have worn my jacket." he said simply, the smile not faltering as he watched the other close the door ever so softly with the elegance that specifically graced his every movement and then walk over with the platter. A small nod served as an answer to the other's words. "Thank you."

The conversation then went dead as he watched the other move out of his slippers and then take the candlelight to the wardrobe to search for some of his nightwear. For one of those maddening, frilly, soft nightgowns that would cover his body but would end up bending so easily between the palm of his hand and the other's skin when he held him, pulled him closer, caressed him, kissed him, tickled him...he hadn't tickled the other in a long while. hadn't he? He hadn't heard the other laugh in such a long while, it was painful to think about so he chased the thought away before it could implant itself in his mind. He'd just run away from it like he did from every other one. "Alright." His eyes traced the other's figure lightened by small candles and the glow from the nearby fireplace like they would the most desired person of their heart because when it came down to it that's what Norway was. And it was exactly because of this that the Dane found himself getting to his feet silently despite his steps. Almost too soon his hands were resting on the other's hips, his head leaning in, cheek brushing against light hair as he spoke so close his breath brushed the other's ear. "I'll help you change." He said simply, his hands moving lower and swiftly, with practiced movements, unbuttoning the other's pants. However, this time they didn't linger, but instead gently tugged out the shirt from Lukas's pants and then pulled it over his head. He smiled as the other complied with his movements.

A small kiss was placed on the side of the other's neck, softly, almost feathery in feeling. "You're beautiful." he said just as softly, his breath once again brushing the other's ears as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. The other was beautiful, so very beautiful that he made the blemishes on his skin seem unimportant and somehow all too unfit to be there at the same time. Denmark's heart clenched before he took the gown from the other's hands with a swift movement. "Hands up!" He said, a cheerful tone to his voice that he hadn't taken in a long while decorating his tone as he dressed the other similar to a doll, letting him take off his pants underneath the night gown to give him some of the intimacy he had refused to grant him in such a long while. Still smiling, he pulled Lukas close by the waist and kissed his temple, pressing his lips there as if to imprint the moment in time and in his unfading memory. "Ready for bed, Norway?" he asked, almost innocently in the light of the fire as his hands moved up and down the other's back, trying to preserve and bring more warmth to the other's still cold body.

Lukas had been surprised when the other got out of bed and had backed up a little against the dresser almost knocking off the candle, that would have been bad, he briefly thinks but his mind is taken in by the Dane coming towards him. Why? What had he done wrong? He thought that he had been behaving, he was changing! He didn't understand! He is on the verge of panic and tears when the other gently touches him. Oh, to help him change? That was okay, he probably wanted to start the 'bedroom activities' a bit earlier tonight since Norway had been out of the room for a good portion of the night. When the other makes no sexual advances, just insanely gentle touches meant to calm him, soothe him, he starts to feel panic building again, what was going on? He didn't understand and didn't know how to react. He took off his pants as instructed and flushed at the kiss. Soft, again meant to soothe, but the words that come with it have him staring down at the ground. Beautiful. Ha. That's a funny one. How could he be beautiful with all of these blemishes that decorate his body dark and noticeable? But he smiles up at him. After all, the other is waiting for a response. And Lukas will be happy for him. "Tak." he says softly. He is fully changed standing before the other in the firelight. He waited unsure if he wanted something else. When he makes no move he gives him another smile, he was trying to keep him warm, cute. He just wished that something could warm the coldness he feels inside. The numbness that when it fades is all pain. He hates it. Wishes it would go away. Wishes it would all go away. He pulls away from Matthias gently and turns to walk to the bed, carefully, slowly. So the other saw he wasn't running away. He climbs into his side of the bed pulling the covers over his cold body and waiting for the other. For a moment his eyes travel to the large fancy door that had taken years to make, glass. A valuable commodity. But Matthias has wanted a glass door to lead out to his balcony. With the light from the fire he could see the snowstorm still raging outside. Beautiful. White. Dangerous. He sighed a little turning to look up at Matthias once more.

Sincerely, Denmark found himself highly distressed by the other's cautious movements. By the way he stepped back when he approached, his back lightly hitting the dresser and his eyes like one of a deer in the headlights. By the stiffness of the body underneath his soft touches. By the way the other's whole being seemed to almost shake in the warm room despite the fire as he continued to gently undress him. By the look in his eyes that wouldn't calm down completely however careful he was, however soft his caresses got, however gently he handled him when taking off his clothes...Maybe that was the problem to begin with. After all, whenever they'd start the bedroom activities it'd be different than when they had first begun. When they had first gotten together it had been wonderful. Lovely. Dreamlike. He had carefully undressed the other, almost scared of tainting him, he had gazed and admired every single part of him, kissed every single part of his body he had gotten his eyes on, caressed his skin relentlessly and curiously with slightly nervous but eager, gentle hands.

They hadn't just had sex, they made love, they held each other, kissed each other, nuzzled into the other's neck and breathed in their scent, dissolved themselves into the essence of the other as if they represented the whole universe and came back only to sanctify the other more, to cherish him, to love him and give themselves to one another. The moans had been of pleasure, slightly embarrassed, maybe a bit shy at the beginning but very pleased. The foreplay had been fun, loving, they had smiled, they had tickled each other and they had finished it all in heated kisses and eager touches as the clothes had been discarded randomly across the room as they messily made their way to the bed. It was different now. The undressing took place quicker and there was no hint of reluctance in Denmark's movements, the touches were lustful, going over every piece of the other hungrily before returning to the main part of their sexual intercourse. The moans were louder, accompanied by gasps and small whines of pleasure and pain as the Dane gripped the other, pulled in, pulled out, held him too tightly by the hips, pushed him down too roughly, kissed him too passionately and lustfully for it to be considered romantic as if he was consecrating the other from everything, for him to become only his instead of cherishing him for all that he was worth, the look of dominance and want in his sultry eyes bearing into the other, pinning him, restraining him, claiming him for himself.

It wasn't love.

The kiss for the other was gentle and soothing, something to show he loved him. That underneath everything that had happened, underneath the dominance that showed in his look regardless of what he was doing, underneath the rough behavior and the horrible abuse he put the other though, he still loved him, still cherished him, still wished for him. Still wished to return to those days when he knew how to love him. The other looked down and Mathias knew for a fact that his message had been refused, not even considered because what was there to consider when the one saying he loved you did the exact opposite? It pained him and his chest constricted horribly. Even so, Norway smiled. He smiled for him and thanked him. Thanking him for everything they had had but breaking everything they could have by using Danish instead of that lovely Norwegian language he had first used to accept his love. Why? He had insisted the other stopped using it, stopped proclaiming their love with his lips and instead used his language to show who he belonged to, but then why did his heart feel like glass was piercing through it as his love now spoke in it? Slim hands reached up and took off the hair clip the other wore so devotedly, placing it on the dresser before he returned his gaze to him and Mathias felt his chest constrict more with the words he could not say and the words that couldn't reach the other. He tried to keep the other warm but it didn't work because soon Norway was away from his embrace and walking towards the bed, still cautiously, still elegantly, almost bored but clearly steady...it worried him how guarded the other had become. He sighed softly as if releasing the tension in his chest before heading to the bed with silent but resolute steps, sitting down on the edge. A smile flourished on his face when he saw the other looking up at him. "We should go to bed now." he said softly, also slipping into the covers and wrapping a strong arm around the other, pulling him close to his body, to his chest, burying his face in the male's soft hair. "God nat." He said in his native tongue, starting to drift off to sleep with the other held securely in his arms.

But if he was so secure, why was he so broken?

Lukas had watched him nervously as the other made his way over to the bed. His actions had become strange and unpredictable. And he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Or even if there was anything he could do. He is surprised when the other simply says they should go to sleep. He nods, actually relieved. His body is too bruised and still in too much pain to be taken again tonight. Lukas closes his eyes pretending to fall asleep till he is sure the other is asleep. That's when he gently turns in his strong grip so he was facing the balcony doors. The light from the fire gave him just enough light to see the snow. He wonders when he started thinking about sex as being taken instead of something to look forward to. Probably when it had been used as a punishment once. It wasn't fun for him anymore. Nothing was fun for him anymore. And while on the outside he appeared fine, already numb to the abuses, inside he was crying in pain. Almost constantly. There had been a time he would have let those tears fall and allowed someone to hold him while he cried. But that time was long gone. And he didn't think he would ever be able to become that carefree or happy ever again. This thought stuns him. And he does feel tears this time. This was never going to stop, was it? No matter what happened or what he did they were going to be stuck in this pattern forever. Broken, and unfixable. He couldn't live like this. In the past he had been the most feared of the Vikings. The strongest of Scandinavia. But he had never hurt anyone! Okay, yeah he had. Mainly England and France though. But never his family. They had never been afraid that his violence or terrible temper would turn on his family. They knew that he was safe. But he wasn't safe now. And he couldn't take it. The thousands of emotions running under the surface that he couldn't let go of no matter what happened, he didn't want to feel them anymore.

That's when it hits him. The snow, it's cold, and numbing. A moment out in that storm in the clothing he is wearing now, this flimsy almost womanly dress which Matthais loves because it is easy to take advantage of him in, was so thin it was almost see through. By this point it has been hours as he muses over the problems with him, his relationship, and the past. And he is done. He carefully slips out of Matthias's arms careful not to wake him as he walks to the glass balcony doors. He lays his hand on it. The cold, it radiates through the class. Cold and uncaring. Perfect. He slides the door open and steps out still barefoot into the snow. A bit falls into the room but he closes the door quickly so hopefully Matthias doesn't awaken from the cold. The biting wind swirls around him catching the edge of the nightgown and lifting it to make it swirl around him, also baring a portion of his legs to the cold. It was freezing. He was quickly losing feeling in his fingers. He hated it. And he loved it. His entire body was starting to feel numb, all he could think about was how freaking cold it was. And that had been what he wanted. So cold everything else faded away. He forces himself to step forward through the snow. He walks all the way to the railing and steps onto it lightly. He almost loses his balance multiple times. He wants to fall, and the ice is slippery, but he doesn't and he stands there holding onto the column and looking down at the beautiful deadly white, so easy to fall into. And end it all.


End file.
